


Echoes of the Past

by gentlearmor



Series: AU FFXV [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: ALWAYS MIND INDIVIDUAL CHAPTER WARNINGS, Depressing, Gen, Graphic Maiming, Sad, graphic death, i can't emphasize the aforementioned two enough, major character gets shit pushed in, sorry your beta is in another castle, tags ever evolving
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:46:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23038066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gentlearmor/pseuds/gentlearmor
Summary: After ten years of gathering his strength, Noctis returns to fulfill the prophecy as the King of Light, only to find out those he anticipated would be there waiting… aren’t.
Series: AU FFXV [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1174496
Comments: 5
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There really aren’t enough stories just battering Noctis. I’ve dedicated myself to the battering of this boy, because there just aren’t enough.
> 
> If anyone has a heart, donate your own abusing of Noctis to a poor gentlearmor today. Anything will contribute. Any sort of abuse, any sort of length, any reason. Help your own gentlearmor in her quest to destroy this boy who looks so pretty when he’s a broken boi.
> 
> CHAPTER WARNINGS: Announcements of bad ends, but nothing graphic right now.

It took him about two days before he realized that going by foot to the next outpost was going to be miserable and dangerous.

Noctis Lucis Caelum hadn’t been sure as to what to expect when he was finally released from his Crystal prison, but from everything he imagined, a dead world wasn’t one.

The darkness was pervasive. The camping spots he and his friends once enjoyed still glowed with the protection sigils left, starting hundreds of years ago.

Ten years ago, he’d found himself sitting alone at night in those spots, when the others had gone to bed, wondering how one knew how to etch out the right lines and curls to make a sacred spot, free of the daemons’ reach. It was something he learned within his confines, among many other things. Bahamut never bothered to do much beyond visiting to preach at him, but his Carbuncle had found a way to him, and through the little creature, he was able to learn many things.

So, once he found evidence that there were still cars that passed through that road sometimes, and could see lights in the far distance of safety, he would stop on occasion and drop by the side of the road, quickly starting a sigil chain that would create a barrier of protection, not only for him and Umbra, but also for anyone who might need it while waiting for the dawn to return. Umbra kept watch, alerting him if daemonic presences came near enough to warrant dispatching, until it was time to rest.

All in all, the trek to the Longwythe Rest Stop was more tedious than anything else. Daemons were dispatched with a greater ease than he ever imagined. The power used to utilize the Ring was something very different for him, and it was the same for summoning weapons and phasing, and casting magic. Instead of feeling the power to do these things flooding into his body like it was some sort of lightning rod, that magical fuel came from within, and that made sense. He was carrying the entirety of the Crystal’s power within.

For a lack of better words, his life was infinite until his Ascension. The power of the Crystal would last for as long as the Star—Eos—had life upon and within it.

Arriving at the rest stop officially brought back some fierce memories. Memories of him and his retainers, his friends, his brothers, dropping off Cindy’s mysterious cargo. His conversation on the now-decrepit sign with Prompto, where Prompto divulged some of his sincere insecurities about traveling with Noctis, Ignis and Gladio—three noble young men, and a single plebe. King’s Knight, Cup Noodles, Ignis’s heart attacks with the latter. Gladio flipping his mattress in the morning to wake him up early. Ignis also having a heart attack about that.

And that was even before he reached the barricade that had been built around the entire area, to help protect the chattering people within. A guard on a post by the barricade’s gate was more than a little stunned to find a ragged man marching his way over.

“Open the gate! We got a straggler!” he ordered over his shoulder.

Noctis remained quiet as, after quite the commotion, the gate made of old metal parts soldered together slid off to the side, run that way with by several hunters shoving against it. A young woman stood in wait on the other side, looking as surprised as the lookout.

“How did you get here?” she asked. “Are you with a party?”

“No,” Noctis replied as he approached her. He glanced at Umbra, who trotted over and sat pretty for her. “Sorry to cause concern over coming here.”

The redhead dipped down to gently pat Umbra, and rub the space between his eyes, which was something he gladly soaked up. “It’s not concern over that. It’s just been a long time since anyone’s been able to solo out there. Cute dog as a partner or not.”

“How long?” Noctis asked. He genuinely had no idea. He hadn’t even seen himself in a mirror, but he certainly felt a bit older. Not old, just older.

She looked up at him like he was speaking nonsense. “You serious?”

“Just… entertain me,” he replied, making a face.

“Since the sun stopped appearing at all like… eight years ago.”

It took all Noctis had not to let on at how stunned he was. So, it’d been at least eight years. He was twenty-eight? Older?

“Thanks for the answer,” he said.

“Yeah, right…” She stood up and held her hand out to him. “Claire.”

“Noctis,” he said, taking her hand. Or, he tried. He underestimated how important the Prophecy would have become after so long of struggling to survive. Before, even though he was dodgy at times about his full, first name, generally no one batted an eyelash unless they were from Insomnia, if he gave it to them instead of ‘Noct Gar’ or whatever else.

She stumbled back from him a little, her eyes going between his face, and the ring on his hand. “Oh my God,” she breathed. “You’ve returned.”

“Ah, there’s no need for—”

Claire looked across to some confused hunters that were just too far away to hear their exchange. “It’s the king,” she announced for them. “King Noctis.”

As hunters around him began to stand at attention as their group’s ancestry, the Crownsguard, did, and bowed to him, Noctis stood there and allowed them that moment. One thing he had concluded during his time in the Crystal was that his days of being able to always act like a normal civilian were over. That the people of Lucis found solace in honoring those they held high, like him, and like Luna.

“I’m… sorry it’s taken me so long,” he apologized after thinking the situation over. “But I’m here. And I’m going to make this right,” he promised, gazing at the endless black of the sky. “I hope you guys can help me find some people I need for this though.”

“Go over there,” Claire said quickly. She straightened and pointed off to the hotel. “Have them get you a room, and I’ll find our best trackers on site right now to come speak to you. If anyone knows, or can find out, it’ll be them.”

Noctis nodded his thanks, and proceeded that way. The Hunters were amazing, so he didn’t doubt that for a single second. Especially since he knew the guys would’ve taken to their ranks following his departure from that plane of existence. They would certainly have an idea of where to find them.

~*~*~

The room was battered from years of use and little resources to maintain it, but the hotel’s owner sent a cleaning crew in to do their best when he realized what was happening. The owner then was the grandson of the man he met back when, and told him it had actually been ten years since notification that Noctis went missing started to spread.

A whole decade. It was hard to parse.

Once the cleaning crew departed and he entered the room, a waiting game began. Some people came to bring him and Umbra food, spare clothing so he could give them his fatigues for cleaning, and towels for a shower. He ate, he cleaned up quickly, and was still waiting to a point he fell asleep after a while. It was so quiet, even outside his room. No cars. No laughter. No children up to no good. At least out in the wilds, he had the ambiance of the daemons and few herds of wildlife left, and the sound of the wind, to provide a sort of backtrack to his slumber.

After so many gunshots and explosions set off around him, Noctis had tinnitus as a result. Having some sort of noise alleviated it; having no noise made it oppressive to the point sleep was hard to take advantage of. He was sure it was worse for everyone else, however. He wouldn’t complain.

When a knock came to the door, he sat up without much struggle. He barely felt the nap he’d just had happened.

“Come in,” he called, having not bothered to lock the door. Who would be stupid enough to try something with him?

Three Hunters entered then; two men, one woman. They introduced themselves as Michael, Gary and Tricia. Michael and Gary were from Lestallum, while Tricia was from Niflheim.

It made Noctis proud that the people could push away the war, to allow those from the enemy’s state who were innocent to be a part of the fight for survival.

“We’re trackers,” Michael explained. “We find things and people for other people. We’ll be happy to see if we can help you find whomever you ask for, your Majesty, if they’re still alive.”

“I’m looking for my friends and retainers,” Noctis explained, resting his elbows to his knees. “Ignis Scientia, Gladiolus Amicitia and Prompto Argentum. They would’ve been the ones to break the news that I was missing, back when.”

Silence fell between them as the three stared at him, color draining from their faces to varying degrees. It made his blood run cold, and he started to slowly shake his head, even as Tricia cleared her throat to speak.

“We… We know of them,” she said slowly. “They… joined the Hunters after they returned from wherever you all had gone of to back then. But…”

“But…” Noctis echoed, looking to the floor.

“I’m sorry,” Gary spoke then, his voice sympathetic, soft. He leaned forward to his knees as well, watching Noctis with sorrowful eyes. “Many have lost their lives in the last ten years, I’m afraid…”

Once again, Noctis had to use everything within his power to not burst into a display of emotion that would do nothing but upset the trackers further. They didn’t need to be burdened with their king’s sorrows. “Do you know of Cor Leonis? He was the Marshal of the Crownsguard,” he asked, his voice stronger than he felt.

“He was felled with Gladio’s sister, two years ago,” Michael advised, eyes on his hands, folded tightly in his lap.

“…what was she doing with him…?” Noctis asked, not looking up except in the briefest of glances.

“She was an apprentice to him after she turned eighteen,” Tricia advised. “Training to be your Shield, she told me once, after her brother died.”

Iris would’ve been all of twenty-three then. Damn it…

“Do any of you know… how… they passed? My friends?”

“I know of Prompto and Gladio,” Michael replied, to which the other two nodded in agreement.

“No one’s ever been sure what happened to Ignis,” Tricia commented. “Just… the end result.”

“Explain, please,” Noctis requested, his calm voice in complete contradiction to the stricken look solely in his eyes. It was plain enough that they could see, however, and they looked at one another, concerned.

“Are you certain, your Majesty…?”

“Yes. I have to know.” He felt like he was having a panic attack, and he had to do everything he could to hold it in, because it would show the signs of a weak king.

Tricia nodded slowly. “Well. The first was Gladio,” she went on to explain. “He fell with the honor a Shield should have in death, I think…”

“Wait.” The protester was Michael, who looked at the other trackers. “Maybe the others would be better fit. The ones that were with them. Or… bore more direct witness, at least.” He looked at Noctis, his deep brown eyes pitying, despite the resolve from Noctis. “If you have time.”

Noctis was pretty certain he didn’t, but then again… something told him, deep in the pit of his stomach, that the one waiting for him in Insomnia was at fault for it all, in one way or another. Well, of course he was, because the decaying world of Eos was his fault, but other than that, Noctis had a dark feeling he was closer to what happened than what it seemed.

If he was right, he wanted to know.

“I do,” he said. “What do I need to do?”

“We’ll call for a truck,” Michael said decisively. “To take us to Lestallum. They’re there now.”

“The ride’s a difficult one,” Tricia warned. “But we’ll send for Kingsglaive to escort us, too.”

At least someone was out there, someone familiar, if only by title. Noctis didn’t feel thirty. He didn’t even feel twenty. He felt like he did the night he found himself on the ground, a wound piercing him from the back, his nanny dead atop him, shielding him the best she could even though her spirit had long passed on to whatever plane of existence awaited the dead.

He felt helpless, and he had no one with whom to speak about any of it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER WARNINGS: Major character death, which shouldn’t come as a surprise! Graphic death.

Lestallum looked a lot better than Noctis anticipated.

After watching more of the country pass him by from the back of a truck, surrounded by glaives and Michael, and that truck guarded back and front by two more with more glaives dedicated to protecting him when they learned of his return, he expected something a lot worse than what was there.

People were amazing, honestly. _His_ people. All of them were his people, regardless of where they hailed, and they were incredible in their striving to survive.

Yes, the city was covered in trash, landfills far too dangerous to reach, and there was notable damage and decay, but the people did their best, and they were clearly working hard to keep the city as clean as possible. The fact that the EXINERIS power plant was still burning brightly and strongly enough that it was as hot as ever, that stood as the greatest testament of their drive for survival.

He was led along by Michael and one Libertus Ostium, a glaive from back before Noctis ever left Insomnia. Noctis didn’t know him, though he felt he looked familiar, as if he’d seen him in passing in his childhood. It was possible. There were so many faces in his past, and Noctis wasn’t always that good at remembering faces. He was too shy to stare long enough to remember too many features. That fact fed into people thinking he was just conceited, spoiled, which in turn gave him an identity to hide the nervousness, the shyness behind. Acting was so easy, he thought about doing that for a living if he could’ve escaped being a prince.

It was all so childish, contradictory, and silly. Part of growing up, he supposed. Something his friends had done long before he had.

“We’re going to go visit Cindy first, your Majesty,” Libertus explained as they took a right and hiked stairs up for one of the city’s squares.

“Did Hammerhead fall?” Noctis asked. That was all he’d been doing since the glaives arrived: ask questions. He wanted to listen to them talk. The shyness of staring to remember faces was gone. He wanted to remember every last person he passed by in the twilight of his life.

“No, it’s still up and running as a Hunter safe haven,” the glaive clarified. “But she comes up here to help with broken down vehicles once a week.”

“Do you know what happened to Cid Sophair, her grandfather?”

“Not a clue. I haven’t actually had a chance to socialize outside of the Kingsglaive, the Crownsguard and Hunters,” Libertus admitted. “The marshal had a plan to start preparing for you to return, to go to Insomnia and start clearing a path for you. Set up shop and the like, so we’ve been busy there.”

“Thank you,” Noctis said sincerely, being ever-impressive in still hiding his broken heart. “I didn’t realize there were still that many Crownsguard around.”

“More survived than Kingslgaive,” Libertus admitted. “When the betrayal happened, most those who weren’t in on the turn were killed outright by the others.”

Noctis shook his head. Bahamut had warned that faces that had contributed to the fall of Insomnia, to the death of his father, would be among those who would protect him in his final hours. ‘A path of redemption for them; a road of protection for you,’ he had droned.

It was a bit enraging that he left out the fact that that road would only hold Noctis himself, and not his friends as well.

Finally, they arrived at an area that once was walled off, but had since been expanded into, that served as a motor pool. In the center was a workstation for the vehicles parked there, and sure enough, there was then 36-year-old Cindy Aurum, working under the hood of a SUV of Insomnian origin, but modified with crudely placed armored plates on its doors and side windows.

As Libertus called her name out, and she stood straight, stretching her back, years of endless work were apparent on her face. She was still easy on the eyes, for sure, but she was thinner than Noctis remembered, and so very tired. Sullen instead of bright-eyed as she once had been. Scars covered her skin that was exposed, both big and small, old and fresh. She felt like a poster child for the rot separating Eos at the seams.

She did brighten somewhat when she realized who was with glaive. “I’ll be,” she breathed. “Yer certainly a sight fer sore eyes, prince.”

“So are you,” Noctis agreed as he moved in closer.

His eyes went a bit wide as well, when she set her tools into her utility belt, and closed the distance between them, pulling him in for a hug. Hugging her, he could confirm through that hefty leather jacket of hers, she was closing in to ‘skin and bones’ territory. While everyone he’d passed were looking rather wiry, he had no basis of comparison. With her, he did, and it managed to trouble him even further. Food was that hard to come by?

“Thank you fer comin’ back to us,” she whispered in his ear, not ready to let go, judging by the tight hug she held over his shoulders. “I don’t reckon we could do this fer much longer, prince.”

“I’m so sorry it took me so long,” he apologized, just as quiet. “I’d be on my way now, but… I’ve… heard. About the others. Libertus says you can tell me about Prompto.” Libertus hadn’t said that, but Noctis knew damn well Prompto’s first order of business upon returning to Lucis was to be at her beckon at all times.

She nodded slowly, and reluctantly stepped back from Noctis. “Lemme get cleaned up real fast, an’ we can go have a talk. That okay?”

“Yeah, of course.” He looked to Libertus and Michael as she went for a simple wash basin nearby. “I can meet you over at the hotel once we’re done.”

“You got it, your Majesty,” Michael agreed, bowing alongside Libertus, before they both took their leave for the time being.

“Y’wanna take a walk, prince?” Cindy asked, going over to close the hood of the vehicle she was working on, once she was cleaned up. It was only then that Noctis noticed she had a fairly pronounced limp stemming from her left leg. There were no fresh injuries that he could see, so it had to be permanent damage. He understood that all too well.

“…sure. Are you always going to call me ‘prince’?” Cindy was turning out to be the last connection he had to the past. Noctis needed to alleviate the pressure in his head and chest somehow.

“Well, since paw paw ain’t here no more to give ya grief, someone’s gotta,” she replied. She moved back over to him and gestured to the side, starting to walk as she did so.

“Fair enough.” It wouldn’t be the same if there wasn’t at least one person doing so, he supposed. He wouldn’t turn away from the single shred of normalcy he was left with.

They walked for some time, in a pathetic yet comfortable silence, until they emerged from the motor pool’s barrier of buildings, to an expansion of the city that allowed them the chance to look out to the valley below the perched city. The makeshift walling and lights were new, and it afforded Noctis a chance to see the power plant to an extent. For as hot and normal as the plant felt and looked from a distance, there he could see a large hole, blasted into its side. The expansion snaked around as a well-lit path, down to that damage, clearly for repairs.

“We were drivin’ supplies up to here,” Cindy went on to explain, folding her arms around her. “He’d been ‘round for a week by then, wantin’ to help with anything I’d give ‘im.” Her eyes were fixed out into the darkness. The flames and magic glow of daemons far in the distance stuck out like spotlights under the unrelenting darkness. “I had to make that run, an’ he said he’d go with t’make sure I made it. Which he did, though if it hadn’t been for that goddamn flat tire…”

Noctis moved to console Cindy, but as he reached out, a spike of pain and frequency shot through his head. It was worse than what Titan had done to him so long ago, to a point he didn’t even know what was happening as he lost all sense of self…

In favor of a show.

~*~

“It’s getting dark,” Prompto Argentum worried, looking around them carefully. While he looked older, it wasn’t by much. Maybe a year or two. Cindy looked just the same as she had the last time they saw her so long ago.

He had his pistol in one hand, and his assault rifle in the other, and stood beside Cindy like a sentinel as she desperately tried to get that tire changed on her battered truck.

“I know, I know.”

“You want help?”

“I got this, jus’ keep yer eyes open,” she replied quickly. “I don’t know what could’a hit ‘er. Hunters an’ glaives check the roads when they’re passin’ through.”

“Probably got kicked into the road by an animal passing through or something,” Prompto guessed. “Can’t get them all, right? It’ll be okay, just let me know if I can help.”

“Will do, but I got it, really,” she promised.

She threw the old tire off and into the road for the moment, to roll the other over and heft it into place. Just as she was lining one of the bolts with its corresponding nut, she froze, as did Prompto, as the familiar sound of plague pooling from the earth broke out around them in a set of three or four.

“Oh no,” Prompto breathed, eyes huge. It was just on the cusp of night, when it was difficult to tell if it was dark enough for the daemons to appear, or just light enough to keep them at bay.

Even Noctis, who found himself standing as an invisible observer across the way, was a bit alarmed at how bright it seemed to be, because it didn’t feel right that daemons could appear right then.

He rushed at Cindy and pushed her for the ground. She protested indignantly, but he hissed, “Get under the truck and stay quiet!” She was small and she had to lift the truck up to get the wheels changed out, so she would fit. “Let me get them out of here, okay?”

“What ‘bout you?” she whispered as she did as he asked, finally starting to show real worry.

Prompto dropped to a knee and started to quickly apply the nuts and try to spin them as tight as would work for her to drive to the next stop. “Hey, I’m loaded with good luck, Cindy, you don’t have to worry about me!” It was his dream to be a hero to her, but even so, that display was such a Prompto thing to do. He would give the clothes off his back to someone who might need it, and appreciate it. He always wanted—needed—validation.

He was just resting the tire iron against the nut, which was just started on its bolt, when the giants took their full shape and lurched and stretched in their arrival. He slammed the tire iron right, to start it spinning quickly to try to twist that bolt firm for Cindy, before taking off from the truck.

“ _Prompto_ —” Cindy hissed, her eyes huge. Noctis had never seen her worried before. The widest her eyes had ever gotten was in realization that she was going to get to torment the four Insomnian boys on behalf of her grandfather.

Prompto didn’t answer, firing on the giant that was blocking the direction Cindy needed to head to go for the next safe haven, to get it to start lumbering towards him. That lumbering turned into a run, the ground shaking under the giant’s weight, and Prompto kept running away so all the giants would turn their attention to him.

It was pure fortune that they hadn’t emerged with smaller, lesser daemons that would have noticed the blonde woman under the truck. “Cindy—you gotta go now! I’ll be okay!” The damn things were too stupid to realize the words he was saying.

She struck the ground in frustration and rolled out from under the truck. She had to first make certain the tire would survive, and pull the jack. She did so as explosions from Prompto’s bazooka rang into the increasing darkness.

One of the red giants seemed to pick up on the noise when she dropped the jack fast and the truck hit hard enough to wobble on its suspension, as it started to sidle around to look at the noise, but a grenade to the face pulled its attention to Prompto.

She pulled the door open, but stood there for a moment, looking at the chaos, as if looking for an opening to beckon him through.

It didn’t happen, and it wouldn’t happen. In the fray, one of the giants got the drop on the speedy young man. Two of those things were a lot for the four of them to handle. It was absurd to even hope Prompto could handle more than that on his own, but it didn’t stop Noctis from recoiling when the one’s fiery blade swiped past Prompto’s back. It didn’t make direct contact, but it didn’t have to. Those blades were made of a molten heat that lit his clothing on fire. Without proper magic to work on extinguishing it, he screamed out and dropped to his knees.

Cindy made the wise decision, after her own recoil with a hand over her mouth, to get in the truck and slam on the gas. Staying there and jeopardizing herself would make his actions be in vain.

As she sped away, a massive, airborne daemon launched low from the clouds above. It shot after her to give almost a lazy chase, but from its back, another was deposited near the fight.

Ardyn.

Eyes oozing black, teeth bright from the decay that spilled from his nose and mouth, he watched as Prompto tried to roll the fire out on the ground. The red giants had stopped their onslaught, frozen as they held their blades high in the air.

“Oh, dear me! It seems you’ve gotten a bit of a burn there, boy,” the _Usurper_ crowed as he approached.

Prompto grabbed at the ground. The fire was out, but his clothes were burned—melted—into his skin. It would’ve taken a lot just to save him from the shock he was surely starting to suffer as he tried to crawl to his feet, only to fall flat on his face again.

“I promised dear ol’ Noct I’d keep you lot company,” Ardyn tsked as he paced around, just behind the giants, like some sort of predator enjoying his next meal for a little while longer. “Had I known you would’ve gone and gotten yourself killed so soon, I would’ve dropped by for a chat long before this!”

It was more than clear why the giants emerged when they did.

Prompto seemed to know it too, as he stopped his struggle. There was no way to fight Ardyn, too. Not for him.

“But at least you saved the woman you love! I admire a man capable of that.” He stopped pacing once he was in a position that he was sure Prompto, with whatever eyesight he had left, could see him. Even there, he was all grinning teeth where all else was turning into but a shadow. “Alas, your time is done. What a shame. I always expected you to die first, but not so… _foolishly_.”

Prompto’s mouth moved with an attempt to speak, but no words came out.

Ardyn lifted a hand in the air. “Start from the feet,” he ordered with a snap of his fingers.

One of the giants swept its blade down then, slamming it into Prompto’s lower legs. Another, blood-curdling scream escaped his best friend, as he came to life again, trying to crawl from not only the pain, but the fire that was starting up his body again. Those burning blades were so large that, to a normal human, even their edges were blunt to a degree. He was getting hit with a giant, fire-bound sledgehammer.

Noctis sank down to his knees as he watched that sword rise again, only to slam into his upper legs, the giant tracking him as he tried to crawl. He only had his upper body left with which to do so, crushed blood and tissue and bone left down below. The fire was cauterizing him slightly, enough to make it worse.

Mercifully, as much a mercy it could be, it was the blow that hit his waist that ended his struggle. Too much shock, too much damage. The heat of his insides was venting out into the twilight air as steam.

Noctis was too stunned to even cry properly. He gaped as his eyes turned glassy, unable to comprehend what just happened before his very eyes. It couldn’t be true…

~*~

But it was, and even though that headache had hurt so horribly, he apparently hadn’t made much of a fuss. Cindy’s back was still turned, she was hugging herself.

“It took a little time after th’ flyin’ one knocked me into a barrel roll, to drag myself to the next haven,” she went on to say quietly. “I wasn’t allowed ta go when they raced out fer him. I sure did see what they brought back, though…” She looked back to Noctis. “I hadn’t seen them boys together since last I saw you with ‘em. They sure came when it mattered, though. Cor, he made sure Prompto got himself a proper Crownsguard burial. The Hunters, they had a ceremony they would fer one’a their own. They developed one’a those as the darkness came in and all.”

“Where’s his body…?”

“There ain’t no way we can run right proper burials anymore,” she replied quietly. “He was cremated an’ put in a mausoleum here, with others like ‘im, t’wait for you to come home an’ figure out what else to do with ‘em.”

“Oh…” His chest hurt worse than his head.

Cindy sniffed a little, then shrugged her shoulders. “Anyway, if yer lookin’ for a sorta… timeline, then you wanna go find Ada.”

“Ada…?”

“Gladiolus’s girl. She should be on over at one’a th’ bars this time’a night. She can speak fer him, an’ prolly a few others you know.”

“Oh. Okay…” Noctis felt listless. He looked listless.

Cindy watched him carefully, before going to take him by the arm, to pull him. “But fer now, let’s get you a proper nap an’ food.”

“Not really hungry or anything,” he advised. He notably didn’t fight her.

“Yeah. Me neither, but we gotta keep our strength up, prince. Fer everyone else an’ all.”

She had a point. He really wish she didn’t even have the grounds to make that point.

What was he going to do?

Kings couldn’t cry, and that was all he wanted to do, and it was about to get a whole lot worse.


End file.
